A/N: As always, thanks to Lori for beta'ing this for me. Hugs to you all!
It always happens the same way. It doesn't matter how many times Harry tells himself whatever this is can't continue. It doesn't matter how many times Malfoy smirks at him in the corridors. It doesn't even matter that Harry's career is on the line. It's been happening for months, and he can't seem to break free. It's very possible, Harry thinks, as Malfoy's trousers fall to the ground, that he doesn't want it to end.
Malfoy had simply come by Harry's office to drop off some paperwork. Funny, that. They have elves dedicated solely to delivering paperwork, but Harry's paperwork always seems to come by way of Malfoy - Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Surely there's more to the job than bringing old files to the Head Auror, but Harry isn't sure Malfoy's aware of that.
Long, lean, pale legs splay, as Malfoy arranges himself on Harry's desk, just out of reach. Malfoy's unbuttoned shirt falls open, right along with Harry's mouth. Some of the novelty should have worn off by now, but it hasn't, not even a bit.
Draco Malfoy is lying on his desk, almost starkers. It's a sight that is forever burned into Harry's retinas. He doesn't think even being Obliviated would wipe it away. Slightly muscular chest, toned abdomen, hard, leaking cock, creamy, quaking thighs…
Harry's hand massages his suddenly very interested cock, as Malfoy rummages in the desk drawer for the ever present (at least since their first strange tryst) lube. Still silent, except of his labored breathing, Malfoy covers two of his fingers in the slick liquid, and recaps the bottle.
"Silencing Charm?"
"Already cast it, your office door is locked as well."
Harry nods, and watches intently as Malfoy spreads his legs wider, revealing the tiny, pink pucker that Harry longs to touch, but likely never will.
A soft moan escapes the blonde, and one fingertip traces the rim of his hole. Harry echoes the sound, and pops open the fly on his trousers.
A single finger pushes slowly into Malfoy; his greedy, tight, little hole swallows every inch.
Harry's hand is now wrapped firmly around his prick, and begins to move.
Malfoy works his finger in and out, wiggling his arse, and biting his bottom lip.
"You know," Malfoy says, between pants, "Even if you never touch me, it's still cheating."
It's been months, and they haven't even kissed. Harry nods, eyes still glued to Malfoy's hand, and the wicked things it's doing to his arse. He does know, but it seems less real, less wrong, if he keeps his hands to himself.
As his second finger breaches the tight ring of muscle, Malfoy begins to speak. It's nothing new; he's tried to tempt Harry before.
"Tell me you want me, Potter. Say it, and you can have me. I bet you'd fuck me so hard, punish me with every stroke, wouldn't you? I just know that gorgeous cock of yours would push into me so deeply. Gods, I want my arse stretched around you, taking you in. I'd beg you for more. I'd want you to fuck me harder than you've ever fucked anyone before."
Harry whines, and his hand speeds up. As much as Malfoy's body and actions turn him on, it's that filthy mouth that always pushes him over the edge, and has, more than once, almost propelled Harry out of his chair.
"You wouldn't even have to get up. Just say the words, and I'll ride you right there in your chair. I'll sit on your cock, and take you so far into me…"
Malfoy arches, and a groan stops his pleading, cutting his words off, changing them into a litany of curses an aristocrat like Malfoy shouldn't even know.
"Say it, Potter, please just say it. You want me, you want to push into me, please say you want to fuck me."
Sucking on his bottom lip, to keep the words from spilling out against his will, Harry works his hand faster.
Malfoy still hasn't touched his own cock, but it doesn't matter. Harry knows, from seeing it firsthand, that Malfoy can come just from the stimulation of his fingers.
"I need to feel you in me, Potter. Harry."
He's pushed a third finger in, and he's riding his own hand, whimpering, sweating, and dripping onto his heaving stomach.
"Please, Harry."
Harry has never said a word during these odd encounters, aside from always verbally confirming their privacy. He's too scared of what he might say, but he doesn't even think about it, as he opens his mouth now.
"I want you."
It takes a moment for his statement to register with either of them. But, Malfoy's always been quicker on the uptake, and by the time Harry understands what he's set in motion, Malfoy is on him. Harry doesn't have time to recant, but he's thankful for that, as Malfoy's slick hand coats his prick.
Then, he's being drawn into that tight, wet heat, forcing Malfoy's body to accept him. Muscles stretch and reform around him, as Malfoy sinks slowly down until he's seated firmly on Harry's lap.
"Yessss." Malfoy's hiss raises goosebumps on Harry's skin.
A thumb brushes Harry's bottom lip, and Harry knows Malfoy means to kiss him. Harry does nothing to dissuade him. Their lips meet, slowly at first, testing this new ground, then hungry, almost painful, too much teeth, not enough tongue, but still so wonderful.
Still attached to Harry's lips, Malfoy lifts himself up, then drops quickly, growling into Harry's mouth. He lets Malfoy set the pace for several minutes, then, as best as he can with his trousers still trapped on his boots, tying his legs together, Harry begins to thrust upwards.
He grips Malfoy's hips, his fingernails biting into the delicate skin, and his hips snap up repeatedly. He rams into Malfoy again and again, displaying stamina he didn't know he was capable of.
A hot mouth moves over his jaw, down his neck, and Harry has the good sense to groan, "No marks."
Malfoy's hair tickles him as he whispers in Harry's ear, "No marks."
Malfoy finds the spot that drives Harry insane with lust, and it's all over. With a few more thrusts, and several deep grunts, Harry comes. Malfoy holds him tightly through his orgasmic twitching, and strokes Harry's hair softly when he finally relaxes.
Feeling quite selfish, Harry shakes himself out of his post coital daze, leaning Malfoy back so that he can reach his cock.
Malfoy just shakes his head, pointing to the mess Harry didn't realize was covering them.
"Oh, wow. I didn't even know…"
"Yeah."
The moment over, Malfoy stands on shaky legs, and begins to dress. Once he's finished, he leans over a still shagged out, half naked Harry, kissing him deeply. Without another word, he slips from Harry's office.
Harry dresses quickly, already wishing for the day to be over. He can't wait to get home to Draco. He's sure his lover already has his next fantasy planned out. Harry just hopes it doesn't include months of wanking himself raw while watching his beautiful, sexy boyfriend finger himself to orgasm. Then again…